


Plaid Intentions

by JenKristo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omegaverse, brief reference to knotting, sort of canon with omegaverse incorporated, sterek, takes place after season 3, werewolf Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenKristo/pseuds/JenKristo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is finding it hard to forgive Derek for giving him the bite, even if it was to save his life. So when Stiles goes into his first heat early, he absolutely does not want Derek's help. Before the heat takes over and Stiles changes his mind, Derek comes up with an unconventional alternative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plaid Intentions

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??" Stiles cried, doubling over in the passenger seat.

It took Derek everything he had not to cover his mouth and nose, the scent of Stiles making him salivate. Stiles smelled different, his usual mint aura combining itself with honey and everything tempting and Derek stomped on the gas, the Camaro powering forward. "You're going into heat."

"Yeah screw you with the bitch jokes, what the hell is this?"

"You're. Going. Into. Heat," Derek repeated through gritted teeth. "Usually it doesn't happen for six months after someone is turned, but like usual you're doing things your own way."

"Great, I have no idea what you're talking about and I have a feeling my knowledge from late night nature documentaries isn't going to cut it here. So if you would please, explain to me why I feel like..." Stiles growled, first humanly and then animalistic, which slowed into a whine. "This is so embarrassing. I don't want to feel like this around you. I hate you."

Stiles's words stung in this context, and Derek was more glad than ever for where he had decided to take his omega. "Yeah yeah, I know. Just shut up and listen." Derek explained the functioning of it, the painful, desperate need that omegas fall into, and how all of the hormones leave the rest of the wolves a mess. Especially alphas. It was all incredibly awkward, and each time Derek glanced at Stiles, he looked even more horrified. Disgusted.

“I thought ‘omega’ just meant a wolf not with a pack.”

“The terms ‘alpha, beta and omega’ are used in two different ways,” Derek said.

“In terms of pack and in terms of mating,” Stiles said, taking it in. Derek nodded. 

“How come you never talked about this before?”

“Omegas are rare, especially with people who weren’t born weres. There was no point.” 

They continued in silence, Stiles groaning uncomfortably periodically. Derek was plagued with conflicting feelings. He felt on the verge of shifting from the scent, that fresh mint and sweet, dripping honey that even the air conditioning couldn't filter out. And then there was Stiles' wants. Derek was not one of those wants. Stiles had never given him any indications before Derek had given him the bite, and had made it abundantly clear after. It was a wonder they hadn't killed each other since Stiles was turned four months ago.

"So where are we going, then?" Stiles said, resigned and miserable. He continued bitterly. "We better not be going to your place. You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m going to let you nail me until this is over."

Derek growled, his half hard dick twitching at the words. "Not quite." He knew Stiles had said such a thing because his body was craving it. Even if Derek had explained nothing, Stiles’ instincts would have driven him to what he needed. 

Stiles groaned, sounding sultrier than he'd likely intended. He leaned forward, arms wrapped around his stomach. "I feel like I could use a gang bang right now..." he said before glancing at Derek with mortification. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” Derek wanted to knock himself unconscious.

"Here we are," he said with relief as he pulled up the driveway.

Stiles looked at the house as Derek killed the engine. "The Argent's?"

"Yes, the Argent’s. The Argent, more like. Chris knows what's going on. I texted him before we left, and he already knew it would happen eventually."

"What the fuck is Chris Argent going to do to help?"

"Not whatever you're thinking," Derek said, glancing at Stiles' face. His skin looked flushed and clammy, and Derek couldn't help staring at his parted lips. God, he wanted to fuck his mouth right about now. Derek shut his eyes, furious with himself. He had to hurry before Scott or one of the others picked up Stiles’ scent. They wouldn’t have a chance at this if one of them showed up.

Derek climbed out of the car and put an arm around Stiles' waist, ignoring Stiles' sharp intake of air when he felt the alpha's hand accidentally brush his bare hip. His skin was burning. Derek half carried him to the door, and Chris opened it before they knocked. He looked pale, as if a year with Allison gone hadn't healed him a bit.

"This way," Chris said, and they followed.

"What's going on?" Stiles asked.

"I'm doing this the right way," Derek said as they reached the stairway that led down to a basement.

"Okay I am not going down there until you explain. I was totally not serious about the gang bang."

"That's exactly why I'm bringing you down there," Derek said. “Can you please trust me for once?”

Stiles gave him a look that said, ‘I did trust you once, and look what I got for it?’ 

Derek looked away, regretting the question but not what his choice had been. 

“I trust… that you mean well,” Stiles said begrudgingly, and Derek looked at him with surprise. Stiles rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

Derek lifted him with both arms, carrying the shaking omega sideways down the narrow flight of stairs. “We getting married?” Stiles teased, and Derek fought back his embarrassment. Still, Stiles was clinging to him without thought, and Derek felt a fresh wave of scent wafting from him. He had the sudden urge to make Stiles scream.

Stiles looked around as they passed a thick, windowless metal door. There was a metal fence, cutting the room into two sections, bars from floor to ceiling and chain links along the lower two feet of it as well. Right in the center was a barred gate, hanging wide open.

"Why are you putting me in a cage?" Stiles asked shakily as Derek set him inside. There was a mattress on the floor with clean sheets made up on it, but it was all touched by a thin layer of dust. The whole room smelled like it hadn't had visitors in ages.

"You'll thank me tomorrow," Derek said.

Stiles' eyes widened as Derek backed out and shut the gate, locking it and pulling out the key. He rushed to the gate, staggering a bit from weakened knees before he held onto the bars. "What is this? Derek, what the fuck is this? Is this like a first moon?” Stiles continued, sounding both desperate and sarcastic. “Am I going to kill someone if I don't get some dick?"

"Shut up," Derek snapped, unable to hear Stiles talk like that, even if he was joking. The omega's eyes were already flickering with gold, his short breaths coming out between his gorgeous lips. Something about the way he was standing was difficult to look at, like he was pressing himself forward, looking seductive without even meaning to.

“I’ve got to go get something from the car,” Derek murmured, turning to leave. Stiles shouted after him in outrage but Derek ignored him, heading up the stairs. Chris was standing there with his arms crossed, looking uncomfortable. “Thank you,” Derek said.

“Don’t mention it,” the ex-hunter said under his breath. “Ever.”

Derek went to the car and grabbed a small bag. He returned immediately, through the house, down the stairs and into the room that was now thick with Stiles’ scent. Derek’s body felt like it was buzzing. He turned back to Chris, who had followed him down.

“Okay, so you said this place locks from the inside?”

“That’s how a panic room works,” Chris said flatly. “I have an override password, though. Is that a problem?”

“Not if you don’t tell anyone,” Derek said. He looked at Chris seriously. “No one can be let in tonight. Not Scott, not Isaac, and for God’s sake if Peter shows up you shoot him in the leg.”

“No problem,” Chris said, a little too easily. “Are you sure this is the right choice?”

Derek nodded and backed away. Stiles watched on furiously, still holding onto the bars. But he didn’t speak, likely knowing there was nothing he could say. Chris grabbed the door and swung it closed with a loud metallic creak. Derek turned the lever, locking the door with a deep click. Derek went to the barred gate separating the two halves of the Argent’s panic room. He pushed the bag through the bars and Stiles took it.

“It’s… I bought it when we found out you were an omega.” He felt his face heat up with embarrassment. This was easier with family, who would understand. “Just in case.”

Stiles took out the thick dildo and tossed the bag aside. He barked out a laugh, waving it at Derek. “A rubber cock. Oh Derek, you shouldn’t have!  So I’m supposed to do what, get myself all ready for you with this?”

Derek looked away, the resentment in the boy’s voice making him recoil. “No, that’s not… that’s not it.”

Stiles didn’t seem to understand. “Then what, did you call Scott? Is he on his way over to do it?” Stiles looked pained, his empty arm curling up around his middle. “I don’t want to have sex with my best friend. I don’t think it’d ever be the same again.”

“You heard what I just said to Chris,” Derek said darkly, though Stiles was so unfocused now that it could have been possible for him to miss. “Scott’s not getting in.”

“Just you, then.”

“No Stiles, just you.”

Stiles was shocked. “But you said…”

“I know what I said. That’s the popular belief.  The belief is that it’s unbearable, that an alpha is needed. But it’s not unbearable, Stiles. It just... feels that way.”

“What…” Stiles trailed off. But he looked relieved. He backed up and slid to the mattress. He was shaky now, and Derek wanted nothing more than to hold him, make him feel better. But it wasn’t really true, he wanted something more as well. Long before Chris shut the door, locking most of the scent in with the two of them, Derek had wanted Stiles on his back, on his knees, anything.

Derek paced around and began looking through their supplies, all of which was on his side of the gate. There were cases of bottled water, military grade Ready to Eat meals, tools and other supplies. The water was the only thing Stiles would probably need tonight, so he grabbed two of the bottles and reached between the bars, setting them where Stiles had access. With nothing else to do he went to the side wall and sat, Stiles’s side of the room on his left. Stiles curled up on the mattress, facing away from him. 

An hour passed and Stiles’ trembling grew worse, sweat soaking the back of his t-shirt. He had already shed the plaid shirt over top. Derek tried not to look at him too often, because it only made him feel worse in all sorts of ways. 

Surprising Derek, Stiles suddenly sat up. “I’m not gonna make this,” he said.

“Yes you will.”

Stiles looked at him, pained and embarrassed. “I need you to turn around.”

Derek did so without question, sitting facing the opposite wall.

“...and never mention this.”

“Never,” Derek said.

And then all he could hear were the sounds of Stiles. First, the slow growl of his zipper coming down, the rustle of clothing, the soft gasp escaping him. And then the movement of skin on skin, almost immediately becoming slick. Stiles moaned and the sounds grew more urgent, and then a sudden sound escaped him and Derek could smell his cum. There was silence before Stiles spoke. “Shit, it didn’t even help… damn it…ugh…” Derek felt terrible, his eyes training on a stack of canned goods just for something to look at. He listened to Stiles move around, leaving the bed, doing something, returning again. Silence, and then a sickeningly sweet cry. 

Derek whirled around in a panic. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t look, you asshole!” Stiles shouted, and Derek turned away, but it was too late. He’d seen. Stiles had been splayed on his back on the mattress, shirt pulled up to his underarms and jeans around his knees. His shoulder was pushed forward, arm reaching down with the toy between his legs.

They spent another half hour in silence, all but the sound of Stiles’ breaths and occasional noises, the rustle of sheets and clothing. The smell, oh the smell that was making Derek hazy. Stiles had gotten himself off twice more, sounding more frustrated after each time. 

“Derek,” he said, his voice sounding off. Derek turned around, wincing at the way Stiles looked. He still lay there, now completely naked and unabashed. But it was his eyes that left Derek the most uneasy. Deep gold glowed and Stiles watched him, not quite the Stiles Derek was used to. He looked drugged, sweaty and coming down from a high. “Derek,” he said again. His name curled off the boy’s lips and Derek shuddered.

“What?” But he already knew.

“I need help.”

“I can’t.” 

Stiles frowned, sitting up. Derek couldn’t look away as he pulled out the toy, slick and drenched in his own fluid. Stiles dropped it on the bed and and shifted onto his knees before moving to the gate. He put his hands on the bars, forehead pressed against them. “Derek, I need your help.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” Derek said.

“Yeah you can. You said that an alpha is ideal. You said it. And I need it. Just help me and we’ll never mention it again.”

Derek wanted to. He wanted to unlock the gate and take Stiles and make it all better. But he couldn’t. Derek turned away and Stiles shouted his name angrily. But then he spoke softly. “I know you want me.” 

Derek flinched. “It’s instinct. Can’t be helped. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Don’t give me that,” Stiles said, still softly. “It didn’t take me long to figure it out after I turned. You had this smell, alway got stronger when I came closer. And then I smelled it on Scott when Kira came around, and I knew. You want me. Well,  now’s your chance. Go for it. I’m right here.”

Derek’s eyes turned red and he glanced over his shoulder at Stiles, who had almost melted against the gate. He seemed pleased at being looked at, perking up a bit. “Come on.”

Derek turned away and Stiles let out a wolfish growl. “Derek! You owe me this! You did this to me! This is your fault!” And then he grew desperate, changing his tactic. “Come on Derek, it’ll be fun. I need it. So do you. ...You’ll  like me . You’ll enjoy it.”

“I know,” Derek blurted out before he could stop himself. 

“Then just do it. What’s the problem?”

Derek knew what the problem was. But his focus turned when he heard a painful noise from behind him. Stiles had doubled over again, knees pulled up to his chest. Derek couldn’t help noticing the sheen of slick between his legs, and a groan rumbled in his throat. 

“Fucking hurts…” Stiles said, trembling. 

“Use the toy.”

Stiles shot him a hateful glare, but he did what he was told. He reached back toward the bed and grabbed the toy, only to return with it at the gate. He faced away from Derek, settling on his knees as he eased himself down on it, just the right way so that Derek could see. “Fff… oh God…”

Similar words forced through Derek’s mind as Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek. Derek couldn’t look away as Stiles raised himself up and sunk down again. “Come on Derek,” he purred, “I’m here, you’re here, you’re watching… it might as well be you.”

“Might as well not, then,” Derek ground out, though he watched Stiles’ every movement with intense focus. His fingers flexed, wanting to grab Stiles by the hips and do him right. 

Stiles had turned away as he moved. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

There was a sudden banging at the door and Stiles turned around desperately. 

Scott shouted, his voice muffled through the metal door. “Stiles? You in there?”

“Scott!” Stiles shouted. “Scott, get me out of here!”

“There’s no handle, just some code pad! Chris is upstairs arguing with Isaac. He’s not going to budge!”

“Scott, you’ve got to get me out of here,” Stiles pleaded, “I need you.”

The following silence left Derek filled with dread. He knew Scott and the others had followed the scent, there was no scent easier to track than an omega in heat. 

A loud banging sent echoes through the room, as if Scott was hitting the door with all his might. And then it became impossibly louder and Derek knew he was throwing himself against it. The door didn’t budge. 

“Stiles you have to unlock the door,” Scott said.

“I can’t,” Stiles shot, “Derek’s got me in a cage.”

“WHAT?!”

Derek growled, but he didn’t deny it. It just wasn’t what Scott was thinking.   
“Scott, I’m hurting,” Stiles pleaded, and Derek knew he wasn’t lying. “I need you, Scott.”

“Derek you open this door NOW!” Scott bellowed.

“Yeah?” Derek spat, “And how would Kira like that if she found out?”

“I don’t care!” Scott shouted. 

Derek looked back at Stiles, who was stricken by the words. Derek knew that Stiles had been on Team Kira for ages, that he adored the girl. He turned to Derek, almost like he wanted to apologize. “You don’t mean that,” Stiles said, but it sounded difficult to say. “You really don’t mean that, Scott. You love her.”

“Yeah, but…” Scott trailed off. 

Derek hated this. Heat was almost worse than the moon. With the moon, no one could question that they had lost themselves. They looked savage, inhuman even to the unknowing human eye. But heat toyed with their minds in a different way. Faithful, puppy-eyed Scott had crumbled just from the scent leaking out from beneath the door. Stiles was reduced to a mewling mess. If they had been prepared, Deaton could have fixed something up to make it a little easier, but Derek could never risk opening the door for it now. 

“Derek,” Scott said, “You’ve got to do it.”

Derek flinched. “What? No, I don’t.”

“You know you have to. If you won’t let me, you have to. I know enough about heat now. You want to risk killing him?”

“He’s not going to die,” Derek said, both demeaning and angry. “No one has ever died from it.”

“This is not your choice!” Stiles shouted at him. “This is mine! I want out!”

“You are not yourself!” Derek bellowed, slamming into the gate. Stiles didn’t even flinch. Worse, he looked glad to have Derek closer. “The real you would never do this. It wasn’t even two hours ago that you told me you didn’t want Scott, that you didn’t want me. Do this for yourself, Stiles.”

Stiles stared at the floor, sweat sliding down his flushed skin. “Get out of here, Scott,” Stiles said. 

Scott protested through the door, and Derek looked away as the two best friends went back and forth. Soon the other side of the door grew quiet and Derek knew he had left. 

Stiles whimpered. He went back to what he was doing, using the toy and keeping his back to the gate. “S’not enough,” he groaned. His free hand was holding himself, and Derek understood. The toy wasn’t enough. There was no knot. But it was something else too. Stiles was craving physical contact. Being touched, held, stroked, comforted. It was all a part of this. Unable to help himself in regards to that, Derek went to the gate. He knelt down and reached his arms through the bars, pulling Stiles back against them. Stiles gasped, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Are you going to come in?”

“No. Just… this is it.”

Stiles looked around at the arms embracing him from behind. Derek had a wide, clawed hand flat against his chest, the other across his throat, holding the opposite shoulder. Stiles growled with frustration but began to move, continuing to ride the toy beneath him. Derek could tell that his presence was helping the omega, despite his own painful arousal. Stiles had raised his free hand to hold onto Derek’s arm. “Oh God, oh God…” Stiles whimpered, and Derek leaned forward, nose brushing through Stiles’s damp hair. 

Suddenly Stiles was turning around, young wolf reflexes faster than Derek had accounted for. And then Stiles was reaching an arm through the bars, grabbing Derek by the back of the neck. He forced the other werewolf into a kiss, hot and wet and desperate. Derek growled into Stiles’ mouth and reciprocated helplessly. Soon his tongue had pressed into Stiles’ mouth and the omega was sucking on it, his body still moving against the toy. Derek felt his resolve breaking. He’d wanted to kiss Stiles for so long. He’d wanted it long before the bite, before everything between them had gone to hell. He froze as Stiles whimpered through an orgasm. 

“Come in here,” Stiles said again. “Just open the gate. It’s so easy. Go get the key by the door and that’s it. Come on Derek. I want you.”

“You don’t want me,” Derek said against Stiles’ lips. 

To Derek’s endless grief, Stiles’ eyes watered. “Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m doing it because I can’t let you go through this the wrong way. Tomorrow you’re going to regret everything you said in this room. And if I took you now, if I let Scott or anyone else do it, you’d feel like you were betrayed. By yourself, by me, I can’t. I can’t survive you hating me any more than you already do.”

“I can’t hate you any more than I do now,” Stiles said. “You should have let me die.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do.”

“I couldn’t lose you,” Derek said weakly. 

It was excruciating, worse than the desire, but Derek held him as Stiles continued to get himself off. Hours passed as Stiles went through cycles of rest and relief, all the while holding onto Derek through the bars. Derek stroked his back, nuzzling his hair, kissing him when he wanted it. 

Eventually Derek could feel that the night was coming to an end. The heady smell wafting from Stiles had lessened, and he looked sleepier. “Go lie down,” Derek said.

“No,” Stiles murmured, holding onto him tighter.

Derek let himself enjoy the moment, as unreal as it actually was. “Go rest, Stiles. You’re done.”

Too tired to argue any more, Stiles nodded. They pulled apart and Stiles went to the mattress, curling up on it with his back to Derek. Derek leaned against the bars and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep.

Stiles woke slowly, and turned to Derek. “How long was I out?”

“Ten hours,” Derek said. “Not long.”

“I don’t even have to piss,” Stiles said, but Derek was too tired to laugh.

“You were sweating a lot. you should drink.”

Something about that tame statement left Stiles self-conscious once more. “Can you turn around again?”

Derek did as Stiles asked and listened to the rustle of clothes as he dressed himself. He was glad the old, non-seductive Stiles was back. Derek turned back when he heard Stiles begin to drink, and in no time the bottle of water was empty and he was on the second. Derek went to the gate and unlocked it, opening it up. Stiles watched him, not moving as he drank more water. He watched Derek turn the large handle, tugging the metal door open. Stiles left the gated area slowly and stood beside Derek at the door. Derek couldn’t read his expression and it left him anxious. 

“Well that sucked,” Stiles said.

“It’ll be easier next time,” Derek said. “Won’t be as strong and we’ll be prepared. We’ll find you an alpha you like, if you don’t want to do it alone again.”

Stiles stared, not acknowledging the comment. “I’m glad you didn’t let Scott in. But even more, I’m really glad you didn’t let yourself in.”

Derek kept his eyes averted as Stiles went upstairs.

xxxx

Soon enough, Stiles was himself again and what had happened in the panic room was all but forgotten... by everyone but Derek. Stiles was even a little less cold to him, teasing him like he used to when he’d been human. Derek kept it to himself, but he felt his heart lift at every belligerent, sarcastic remark the omega sent his way. He’d even smiled at Derek once or twice.

Months passed and they knew the time was almost there. Deaton had made a suppressant to make the heat easier for Stiles, and he kept the bag of dried herbs in his pocket at all times. Derek knew it was coming closer when Stiles went through a few false starts, an hour or two of sweating that left Stiles inhaling the scent of the herbs or adding them to a mug of tea. 

They were prepared now with alpha contacts. Derek had searched and tracked down as many alphas as he could, which happened to be six. They all responded with a resounding ‘yes’ when Derek had explained that he had an omega needing a contact, no one questioning why Derek, an alpha, was not taking care of it himself. Soon enough Stiles went to meet each of them. Derek never heard anything from Stiles about what had happened, but Stiles had told him he didn’t need to meet any more alphas. Well, he’d found someone then.

At around three in the morning one night, Derek woke up to his phone buzzing on the nightstand. It was Stiles. He picked it up immediately. “Is it happening? Are you okay?”

“Come pick me up.”

Derek didn’t even ask, he just hung up and headed downstairs. Maybe their alpha wasn’t picking up and Stiles needed a lift to his place. After all, it was impossible to stay on the road while in heat. Maybe Stiles wanted to go to the panic room after all. No, he doubted that.

He pulled up to Stiles’ house to find him standing at the mailbox, arms crossed over his chest. He climbed into the passenger seat. His cheeks were flushed, skin damp, but he didn’t look as sick as he had during his First. Still, the mint and honey scent took Derek full force and he turned up the air conditioning. 

Derek pulled away from the curb and began driving. “Where to?” 

Stiles hesitated. Derek continued ahead patiently. Stiles shifted and fidgeted in the seat beside him. Derek could practically hear the sound of him... swallowing, saliva slicking his throat, the hush of air pulling and escaping his lungs. Glancing over, he watched the movement of Stiles’ throat as he did. His eyes closed, eyelashes clinging together from the sweat. 

“We need to talk,” Stiles said breathily.

“You need to point me in the right direction first.”

“Oh my God, Derek, we need to talk now. Just pull over.”

Derek looked at him to see if he was serious. Dark houses lined both sides of the street, and in the distance a dog barked. He pulled over beside a mailbox. “This really isn’t the time,” he tried to insist. Part of him couldn’t bear to be in Stiles’ presence like this, knowing he’d be delivering him to some other alpha in a while. 

Stiles had leaned back against the headrest, and turning his head, he studied Derek. “Do you want to go for breakfast tomorrow?”

Incredulous, Derek blinked. “What are you talking about? This really isn’t the time-”

Sighing, Stiles stared through the windshield. “I don’t resent being a werewolf anymore. I did before, but… I’m really, really glad to be here now.”

Shocked, Derek’s throat felt tight and he stayed quiet, nodding instead. 

“And I get why you put me in the panic room. I want to say it could have been handled better, but that wouldn’t actually be true. It was exactly what I needed at the time, because I wasn’t ready for anyone. Not with the way things were.” Stiles took in a breath and exhaled, shifting in his seat. His brows drew together, giving away his physical discomfort. Derek knew he must be in pain now.

“You can’t just sit here like this,” Derek said. “We’ll talk more later. Where do you want to go?”

“You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Us. Breakfast. Tomorrow. Yay or nay?”

Derek stared. Stiles smiled; quirky, sultry, affectionate. It clicked. Derek leaned forward, kissing him. Stiles’ lips were on fire. Derek touched his face, the skin damp and burning. Stiles leaned closer, eyes smouldering. He shifted in his seat, his body impatient. 

“How can you be managing to talk about this right now?” Derek murmured against his mouth, “How can you even be thinking about anything but the heat?”

Raising a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Stiles gave Derek a lopsided smile. “Because I know what’s important. Now, take me to your place.”

Fin.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
